Falling Orchids

[None So Blind]

The kitchen was modest, a small nook cradled by the den of the cabin. The fire was dying, sizzling embers glowing a defiant orange in their last stand. The dishes of the night's meal had been washed and put away, but in the darkness Kor could still smell the lingering smell of fish and potatoes, and the berried scent of wine. It had been a nice night, and the older couple who'd celebrated once again having an empty nest had gone to bed early, though not to sleep. They'd been in the last throes of their lovemaking when Kor had entered their house and while the door had closed a little more loudly than wanted it to, they had never noticed. They were long asleep, while he'd taken his time to merely look. Now, he had the run of the place, and the time to leisurely look for what he needed.

Looking stealthily, he found a small steel knife, and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. It wasn't the first choice of his to keep a weapon, but it would have to do until he could come up with something better. Next, he found a jar, clean and tucked away in the pantry. It had been unused in the fall's preserving, and near it lay a canvas sack. Three potatoes sat in it, and he placed them carefully in the pantry, placing instead his confiscated jar and knife inside. A small smile spread on the murderer's face, and he turned now from the kitchen, heading for a window instead of a door this time. Slipping out far more silently than he'd gotten in, he landed on the grass, his feet immediately walking away. He shamelessly walked across the clearing that led to the main road, not caring that his silver hair was gleaming in the moonlight. He could be spotted now, he knew, and they might even recognize the pilfered bag, but with the sun having had already set, he could not be caught. The shadows stretched around him lazily, long metaphorical cats just beginning to wake from their day long nap. Power thrummed in the Alerian night.

He was home.

The magic of the night flowed around him, begging him to use it. He let it surround him like a cloak, and began to use the shadows to shuttle him faster through the forest. The going got slower as the lush forests turned into colder copses, heading easterly where the moisture of the sea and the Dheathian swamps were. When the full trees ran out into only scrabble, he began to walk, intent on finding a small cave or cavern to hole up in for the remainder of the night. Though the terrain was quickly growing mountainous, the stars above glittered with an ominous light. Orbb Elemiire's constellation was high in the heavens, almost winking conspiratorially at him.

A shiver went down his spine, and with more diligence, Kor began to search once more until he stumbled across a likely looking hovel overlooking the road. Settling down inside, he smiled to himself as he pulled out the jar from the canvas and sat it in front of him. Even in the darkness of the cave, enough light filtered through for his Drow sight to see it flickering along the edges of the jar. The vessel seemed to contain stray beams of the moonlight when his vision blurred from exhaustion, and despite the rather silly metaphor, Kor smiled. He was a man with a plan, carefully laid and filled with flowers, blood and ultimately death.

It, however, is sometimes important to note how wrong even the best laid plans can go.

[Karuka]

Karuka remembered the crisp nights in Alerar well, even though it had been a year since her "birth" into Althanas. She was actually on her way to Dheathain...the runes had told her, before she'd left Salvar, her ultimate destination, and she'd chosen the shortest route by boat...even if it did mean that she'd have to walk hundreds miles and take more time. Haste wasn't necessarily the best way, though. Her meandering travel had seen her at the home of Taviri and Liliana Ambria on the same stormy night as Liliana's daughter, Samantha, made her way into the world. Perhaps her adventures along the way were as much the point of the trip as getting to the destination.

Fate ay knew that if I knew th' way I was goin', i' knew that I'd choose th' mos' lan'-ridden route possible. If Corone ha' nae been an isle, I'da ay walked from there.

Sighing, the red-head ran her fingers through her hair and looked around. It was long past dark, but she'd wandered off the road an hour or so before and couldn't find it again. It was probably time to seek shelter from the wind and wanderers. Maybe a thicket, or a cave. Caves seemed more likely. The land was more open here than it had been, and she could see the same sort of rock patterns that had heralded caves in France.

That thought stopped her short. THIS was where she'd come to Althanas. THIS was where, if anywhere, she could get back to France and find her way to India and hopefully her father. There weren't even many caves. One nice and open; two were a little tighter, but would make good sites for hiding. And then there was one that looked too small to fit a person through, hiding beneath a thick patch of moss.

The lass walked up to it, running her fingers gently over the rough white stone.

"D'y' r'member me? I were th' wee skinny lass from an Fraing tha' come dressed in rags. I came ou' here. I r'member y'. Ay well...'twere a wee bit o' a squeeze t' get ou'. An' I'm nae th' skinny hal'-starved thing I were a year ago. I've learned how t' live in Althanas...an' maybe I'll be able t' take the knowledge I've gained here back home wi' me. Will y' let me back home? I've ay got people I need t' see...I need t' tell mi athair tha' mi mathair died...abou' Cael an' Artan an' Fiachra...abou' Calhoun. I need t' see if I've any other wee brathairs or piuthars. I ha' a life back there...an' here I'm jus' a los' wee wanderin' girl. I'm thankful fer th' lessons an' th' people y've ay let me t' see...I'll ha' ay good stories t' tell, new legends t' bring...bu' I've ay got t' get back. I...wan' t' go home. Will y' let me?"

Grabbing her sword and rune bag, Karuka wriggled her way into the little cavern with some difficulty. She couldn't stand up straight, which was new -- she'd been just barely able to stand straight before. Oh well. She was only hunched a little now, and if the cave continued...

...but it didn't. No sooner did she step back to turn around than her boot hit against the back of the little hole in the ground. Discouraged, Karuka sighed. Apparently it was her dharma to go to Dheathain, instead of back to Earth. Bending down, Karuka picked up her father's intricate, useless bronze sword and tossed it out, followed by her satchel, then braced her hands at the mouth of the cave to force her way back out.

'Tis an ay big cavern, she thought irritably at the cave that had brought her through to Althanas.

Getting back out was harder than getting back in. While she was still a slender thing, Karuka had learned how to survive on Althanas -- meaning she had added a little healthy weight and volume to the scrawny frame she'd come with. She could feel the stone scraping against her skin, but the vlince cloth held and she was free in a few moments.

"So," she muttered as she picked up her belongings and slid her pendulum from her neck, "which way t' a good night's sleep?"

The necklace dangled lazily from her fingers for a few moments before starting to swing east...and then doing a sharp loop to the northwest. Karuka spun as a dark figure stepped out into the light, but recognizing a man rather than a beast, she let herself relax. Six runes fell out of her haphazardly held pouch.

"Ah, y' startled me there. I'm Karuka."

Bending down to pick up her runes, she struggled to make out the ones that had fallen in the moonlight.

Ken, Othel, Rad. All three pointed exactly toward the strange dark figure with silvery hair.

"Yer Kor? I'm s'pos'd t' tell y'..." The other three runes were Wyrd, Feoh inverse, and Peorth inverse. "Tha' yer nae goin' t' fin' whatcher lookin' fer." As her fingers plucked the six runes up, a seventh that had been teetering precariously in the bag now plopped to the ground.

Mann inverse. "A' leas'...nae alone."

The reading didn't mean anything to Karuka. But it wasn't a reading for her. Maybe it would mean something to the man, she reflected as she got her runes back in order and slipped her pendulum back around her neck.

>>>Fate knew that if I knew the way I was going, I'd the most land ridden route possible. If Corone hadn't been an island, I'd have walked from there.<<<

"Do you remember me? I was the skinny little girl from France that came dressed in rags. I came out here. I remember you. Very well...it was a little bit of a squeeze to get out. And I'm not the half-starved scrawny thing I was a year ago. I've learned how to live in Althanas...and maybe I'll be able to take the knowledge I've gained here back home with me. Will you let me back home? I've got people I need to see...I need to tell my dad that my mom died...and bout Cael and Artan and Fiachra...about Calhoun. I need to see if I have any other younger brothers or sisters. I had a life back there...and here I'm just a little lost wandering girl. I'm thankful for the lessons and the poeple you've let me see...I'll have many good stories to tell, new legends to bring...but I've GOT to get back. I...want to go home. Will you let me?"

"You're Kor? I'm supposed to tell you...that you're not going to find what you're looking for. At least...not alone."

[None So Blind]

He came out of sleep unwillingly. Using the shadows to run across the land at breakneck speeds took so much out of him now that Ghauntyrr'Stra was buried in Alerian soil. As crippling as it had been to his skills in shadowmancing, it had been the proper thing to do. There was some dark little part of his soul that now felt far more at ease than he had been before. When his heavy eyes opened, he heard the sound of footsteps first; the thing that had brought him out of his rest. He reached out, snatching the jar and stuffed it back into the bag he'd pilfered. It chinked more noisily than he would have liked against the dagger that lay inside as well, but he was sure that anything below the senses of elvenkind would be unable to hear it.

"Karuka?" He asked after she had spoken, his face composed in one of detached annoyance, though this woman had him a little shaken. His mastery of Tradespeak was shaky at times, and her thick accent made most of her words as understandable as rocket science to him. As she spoke, he inclined his head towards her, listening carefully. He didn't want to miss a word; he was a man who was particularly interested in the last words of the nearly dead. When the weight of what she spoke hit him, he pulled back, hissing as if she were a cancer that he could see trying to invade his system.

"Jalbyr c'nros?" He asked, mostly to himself. Where were all these women coming from, who knew his name? Paranoia flared in his mind, surely there was some intelligence agency out there who knew his secrets. The last woman had even known about the life he'd lived before the desert and the well of souls. She'd spoken that beautiful name, scoring it with her unworthy tongue. This Karuka didn't make mention of Ghauntyrr'Stra Do'afin, but she did know he was searching for something, and she had the audacity to tell him that he would not find it. His expression turned, his lip curling into a sneer.

"We shall see about that. Who intends on helping me search? Is it you, witch? I don't think so." He came forward, his steps silent but solid on the ground. His bare feet kicked a few stray pebbles Karuka's way, and as he came closer, away from the entrance, his features faded with the darkness. Moonlight still added a pearlescent outline to his bare torso, his silver hair a halo around a face where two orange eyes glittered menacingly.

"And just who was it who told you to tell me these things? Don't they know how silly it is to send a little woman to call a beast by it's name? I can be cruel, and I can be kind. Just tell me who it was who told you that I am called Kor, and we'll forget just what it is that Kor means."

Another witch?

[Karuka]

"Witch?" said Karuka, blinking. She was a Celtic shaman, not a Pagan. There were major differences between the two religions, and to call a Druid a Witch, however little training she'd actually received, demeaned both religions and philosophies. Karuka's spells ran in conjunction with nature; a Witch's ran contrary to it, and according to different principles. She shook her head, beginning to protest against Kor's error.

"I'm a Druid, nae a witch. Th' powers I ha' are runic based, instead o'....an' I dinna think y' care."

He towered over her, a black figure with glowing eyes and an aura made of malice. She didn't doubt that he'd kill her if she gave him the chance to, and for the briefest of seconds fear flickered in her eyes as her hand slipped once more into her rune pouch. The first tablet her slender fingers wrapped around was a line branching up into a three-way fork. Eohl, advising her to not be afraid; she was actually safe.

With that reassurance, the red-head straightened up, tossing her head defiantly, losing the aura of fear that would have made her easy prey for the malevolent Kor. She looked him straight in the eyes as her full mouth set into a firm line. He might be bigger, stronger, and have strange abilities like so many people on this Althanas, but he sure as Hel wasn't about to have the Irish lass out-matched.

She spoke again, her voice calm and steady, slowly so that she would be understood.

"Who tol' me yer name, an' that whate'er 'tis yer searchin' fer, ye'll nae find i' alone? Some say th' gods themsel's speak d'rectly through th' runes. Others say that th' messages they give are d'rected by Fate. I say they jus' know ev'rythin' an' say what they need t' say when they need t' say i'. Th' message they gave t' y' dinna ha' meanin' t' me. Y' could be lookin' fer yer los' pet luchorpan or a man that owes y' money from a previous life, fer all I know, an' really fer all I care. I dunno who, if any'un, is gonna help y', an' 'tis none o' my concern. Perha' yer s'posed t' get some'un t' help y', an' perha' 'tis best if y' dinna find what yer lookin' fer. I wasn't told tha'."

She gripped another handful of runes and brought them out, glancing down at them. Rad, Tir, Peorth inverse, Eoh inverse.

"I'm also s'posed t' tell y' tha' if y' keep bein' so hasty t' be violent, ye'll ha' los' a gamble that'll wind up in losin' ev'rythin' y' were, are, an' could be."

Starlight shone like fire in her clear, defiant eyes, and no matter what happened next, the wrathful figure could not make her back down. Not when she knew better. He'd called himself a beast, and she knew from experience that instead of running, screaming, or cowering in front of a predator, the best way to survive was to glare it in the eye and roar right back at it.

She'd proven time and time over that she could and would do just that, even if a smarter, saner person would have run as fast as they could with their tails between their legs.

"Witch? I'm a Druid, not a witch. The powers I have are runic based, instead of...and I don't think you care."

"Who told me your name, and that whatever it is you're searching for, you won't find it alone? Some say that the gods themselves speak directly through the runes. Others say that the messages they give are directed by Fate. I say they just know everything and say what they need to say when they need to say it. The message they gave you doesn't mean anything to me. You could be looking for your lost pet leprechaun or a man that owes you money from a previous life, for all I know, and really for all I care. I don't know who, if anyone, is going to help you, and it isn't any of my concern. Perhaps you're supposed to get someone to help you, and perhaps it's best if you don't find what you're looking for. I wasn't told that."

"I'm also supposed to tell you that if you keep being so hasty to be violent, you'll have lost a gamble that will wind up in you losing everything you were, are, and could be."

[None So Blind]

He snorted, crossing his arms as he pulled back. Now that the ebb and flow of her speech had been established, she was easier to understand as she talked circles around him. Somehow, though, the sneer on his face managed to melt, his lips twitching up at the sides. It was an odd smile on a man so physically threatening such as he was. While he wasn't overburdened with muscles, there was something in his lean, toned form that spoke of death, even down to the way he wore his denim trousers. His arms uncrossed, one of them falling now to shove a thumb under the waistband of the pants, the other gripped the strap of the pack slung over one arm. Again came the jingle of metal on glass, and he cocked his head to the side while he thought about her latest prophesy. No matter what she said, he was still convinced that something witchy was afoot.

"So, the little rocks tell you things, do they?" his voice was calm, but still managed to have a mocking tone. "They told you my name and purpose and now these little stones dare to tell me to stand down?" He stepped to the side, so that he could inspect her profile. She was a little flip of a thing, a mere child judging by the curve of her hips. There was no way she was over 18, and if he bothered to sit down and figure out the human equivalent to his age, he had no doubt that it would be over twice her years. His eyes completed another sweep of her figure, before he turned and began padding back to the entrance of the cave. While she was a human, she would make a decently attractive adult, he conceded. It was a pity that he had encountered her now, instead of later in life when the visage would be one he could appreciate.

"So apparently I am an auflaque, some lap dog for these rocks to command back. Well, they say that in Hell there are hounds." He regarded the night sky, and the weariness that was begging his eyes to close once again. He did not fear the girl behind him. He may have no weapon, but they were in the darkness, his element. An idea sprung into his head, tauntingly delicious and evil. If her faith in these scrying stones was so absolute, surely they could withstand a little testing. He turned, to look over his shoulder and gave her a tooth-baring grin.

"Tonight, you will sleep in this cave, with me." He demanded, and then stopped, pausing over his sentence, frowning at the way it sounded. "Near to me, mind you. In the morning when we have woken, you will ask the gods in your little stones what it is that I should do with you."

With that, he made his way to the entrance, where he had been asleep before and sat on the ground, waiting for her to walk back into his sight. He knew she would comply, somehow. He was used to people complying, and it wasn't as if he'd given her a choice.

[Karuka]

Karuka's eyebrow quirked as the Drow spoke, and she dropped the four runes back into their pouch. Why would he threaten to kill her, and then demand she share his shelter for the evening? Big and mean or not, it was suspicious and she thought briefly about hitting him over the head with her staff and leaving. But what was HER part in meeting this man? What was she supposed to do?

Her fingers swirled the runes around inside the pouch, and she withdrew a single one, the one that drew her fingers to it almost magnetically. The rune she drew was a single vertical line; Is. She had directions to stay. She didn't really want to stay so close to a man that had just been warned of excessive violence. Then again, she'd met and survived many violent types in her seventeen-year lifespan. At least this one didn't rush up and try to kill her, like the blond Elf near Underwood...but maybe that was a bad thing.

She gathered enough wood to make a brief fire -- she wanted to see the dark figure she was staying with, and although the moonlight was bright, that didn't help much with the fact that he was black as the night that surrounded them. Even though the runes had assured her that she was safe, Karuka didn't trust the man that was watching her with eyes deadly yellow, like the panther of myth. She did have the option of leaving, and the runes couldn't tie her down and stop her from doing so, and briefly she re-considered hitting Kor over the head and leaving.

But this place, this clearing, was sacred, and she'd come at a sacred time. It had been exactly one year since her re-birth, and it wouldn't be right to leave this place, though she'd come by merest chance. There were no proper rituals, so the least she could do was stay the night. What did it matter, his cave or another? And she did need sleep. That was a safer prospect with more than one person. If the other person wasn't intent on killing you, which this one might be.

Shrugging, she went into the cave and sat down on one side, watching him fearlessly with her crystalline blue eyes as she settled the twigs and branches. Then, with a brief prayer as she held a wedged-shaped rune, she lit the fire and sat back against the rough moss-covered wall, with Kor coming and occupying the other side.

Truth be told, he didn't look any less menacing in the light than in the darkness. His face was hard and bore a frown that seemed to be firmly sewn in, making it hard to imagine him smiling. Even the malevolent one he'd flashed her seemed like it wouldn't belong. His shirtless body was toned and inky black, sharply contrasting the thick white hair that fell to his shoulders. And the harsh cast of his orangish yellow eyes mirrored the cruelty and anger she'd seen in her stepfather's eyes every time he'd looked at her.

That analogy put fear right back into her heart, but at the same time stoked her defiance. Never again would she allow Calhoun, or someone like Calhoun, to beat her around and intimidate her. Those days had ended with the death of her mother, and she was much stronger now than she had been then.

"In th' mornin', then," she told him, regarding his demands to a future divination. "Or wouldja rather I told y' now?" The red-head's posture was relaxed, with one leg stretched out in front of her and the other knee bent with an arm slung over it.

"In the morning, then. Or would you rather I told you now?"

[None So Blind]

Kor really couldn't see why he was bothering. He should kill her, rip out her throat first so that she wouldn't have the vocal chords to scream. Somehow he could imagine her scream being annoying, and he'd hold fast to that to be the reason why he didn't want to hear such a distressing call. He'd seen the staff, assumed it was for fighting, but it didn't phase him much. He could take her down in here, with all the shadows that cradled them so thickly. Even if that staff was one of her witch's tools, no spell she could possibly carry could really hurt him. He was a Drow, steeped in the wisdom of years and she was just a child, albiet standing on the very edge of womanhood. Why he let her live was a mystery until he really thought about it. He was just too damn tired. In the morning, when being lazy didn't feel quite so good, he'd probably kill her.

He laid down silently, staring at her face over the flickering flames. The heat from the fire rose up in transparent fingers, distorting her visage beyond the flames. Even though he could barely see her anymore, he knew the face was lovely.

And it was with a small chuckle that he watched that lovely face scream. Her mouth, framed by full lips, opened, forming a single syllable. His name. She was crying out for him, even as he looked up from where he watched her, his mouth at the warmth that rested between her toned legs. Kor. Kor. Kor. The word was beautiful on her lips, even more enchanting as she gasped it, one hand playing in his hair, another along the peak of her rosy breast.

Kor.

Kor.

He woke with a start, sure that someone had said his name. Looking around, he took little notice of the fire. It had burned down, leaving glowing embers, telling him that as long as Karuka had not been sitting up to tend it, he had only slept for a few hours. The sky outside the cavern was touched with the darker pastels that gave away a coming dawn, and his eyes finally settled on the woman who'd shared his cavern for the night. Her face was a mask of calm, but then again, it had been for most of their encounter the night before. She didn't seem to fear him, and that was a puzzlement. She was still such a young woman, surely he'd been the worst monster she'd laid her eyes on. With a frown, he watched her silently for several minutes more, his mind on whatever might be held in her past, and on the dream that was even now starting to slip through is fingers.

From outside the cave came the scrabble of nail on rock, and a low, lonesome call. It held nothing of avian tune, but as alien to the Alerian hills as it was, Kor knew it immediately. He chose a small stone and chucked it at Karuka, aiming for her hip.

"Guuan phor! Suingmc rivvil c'nros, inbau dosst t'zarreth kr'athin!" he hissed, so angry with himself for letting her stay with him that he couldn't find the words in TradeSpeak. Not quite sure why it was that he wanted to keep this weak human safe, he decided not to think on it. Hurriedly, so that he could have the advantage of the dark, he began to cover the last embers with what little dirt he could find swept by the wind against the sides of the cave.

Wake up! Silly human witch, get your ass ready!

[Karuka]

Karuka muttered a curse in her native tongue as the rock bounced off of her side. Yelling out like that had been more than sufficient to wake her, even though the birds hadn't quite begun the morning racket that the red-head was so fond of rousing to. Her side was a little sore from the roughness of the stone on which she'd slept, and she regretted that she hadn't seen fit to hazard the chill of an autumn night for the softness of the thick grass and leaves for a bed.

Sitting up, she raked her hand through unruly curls. She remembered watching for a little while to make sure Kor, who reminded her so much of the man she'd grown up hating and fearing, was truly asleep. Assured of it, she'd finally banked the fire, grabbed her rowan twig and curled up to sleep. The twig was a talisman, an object that she knew had no powers beyond its inherent ones of warding off storms and evil spirits. Hopefully, with an evil spirit in the cave, it would keep her safe.

Well, she'd woken to the surprise of having a pebble bounced off of her, instead of the surprise of a knife being jammed down her throat, which was a relatively good sign. She looked out of the opening of the cave, not addressing Kor yet. After the dream she'd had, any and all further desire she may have had to try and let the tall Drow redeem himself of the impression she'd gotten of him had vanished.

"Will you never be worth anything at all?!"

Blows rained down upon her body, against her arms raised ineffectually to try and deflect some of the merciless barrage. She was eight again, enduring her stepfather's wrath simply for being what she was. She didn't even know that Lord Shiva wasn't a god that her mother's people worshiped yet, she didn't understand anything but that the man that had forced her mother to marry him hated her.

She felt the old bitterness and anger rise and she lashed back out, now seventeen and with a vengeful fist backed by a strong arm. She lashed out again and again, each strike fuelled by a decade of broken dreams and a retribution too long restrained.

But Calhoun was still stronger than she was. Still smarter, and definitely more calculatingly evil. A knife jabbed into her gut, causing warm blood to seep out of her exposed belly and causing an agonizing burn as her stomach opened and the deadly acids splashed out.

She looked up to curse at her attacker and saw only predatory yellow-orange eyes looking back at her as silver snow drifted down around her.

Standing, she grabbed her staff and walked out of the cave and into the gray pre-dawn as the birds began chirping lethargically. The reading he'd demanded could wait until the light was good enough to see, and she needed to feel the clear air in her lungs and cold water on her face. If he had a problem with that, she'd see what he said after he'd taken a blow to the head.

The little stream she remembered walking through was a mere thirty paces from the mouth of the cave, and she knelt by it, filling her water skin and washing her face thoroughly. The little brook was shallow, less than knee-deep at its center, but clear as the spring waters of her native Ireland. She remembered this stream. She remembered its sound and its rocks. It had been the first stream on Althanas that she'd tasted, and somehow it was the only one that reminded her of home.

She wasn't really reflecting on that, though. Her nightmare had temporarily ruined the sacred nature of the area, and she sat on the mossy bank, staring piercingly into the water as though it would afford her guidance on her actions. Babbling brooks make poor scrying bowls, however, and the honey-skinned red-head was left with an ever-growing disquietude.

I have nae thought abou' Calhoun since th' night in Radasanth.

>>>I haven't thought about Calhoun since the night in Radasanth.<<<

[None So Blind]

His first folly was to let her slip unnoticed from the cave. Kor was so busy hurriedly staunching their fire that he hadn't seen her move out into the wild. It wasn't until he heard the scree rattle down the hill towards the water that he froze, his hands in midair above the embers, dirt slipping through his fingers to pile upon the dead fire. Curses were born and died before they ever left his tongue. In silence he stood, brushing his dusty hands on the pants of his jeans before slipping to the entrance of the cave.

The gleaming embers had taken from his night vision and it took a few moments for the dark silhouette of Karuka to come into a sharper focus, the details of her wild curls and the reflection of her faraway expression revealing themselves. For a moment, he hadn't the heart to do what needed to be done. He needed to drag her back into the cavern, and keep her there before his quarry showed itself. With a grimace, he reminded himself that this should have been thought of last night, but the fatigue that had come hand in hand with her discovery had kept him from taking the proper steps to ensure her safety.

"Let her care for herself," he muttered, turning away from her. The first twittering of a real bird, however, brought him back from this old idea of survival of the fittest.

Some people can't. came the voice inside his head, in the same lilting tones as the bird's song. You forget, Kor, the true reason that strength exists. It serves as a mean to protect the weak.

He glared at a nearby branch, his pumpkin colored eyes wavering on a small finch for only a moment. It was a jewel of a bird, in green and black, and perhaps the object of his strongest hate. She was right, though perhaps only partially. He was, after all, stronger than Ghauntyrr'Stra had been. Now his existence was being served to protect her, her name and memory above all. Even in death, she was his mistress, his one goddess above all others. The fact that he was her reincarnated meant nothing to him. In his eyes, they were nothing like the same person. She was beautiful in her wondrous memory, the perfect woman and ultimate lover. No matter what hazy dreams came to him in the night, the thought of touching any woman but his dark, fallen priestess was repulsing.

He stood, stalwartly refusing to move with the efforts of reason, until he heard it again. This time, closer, the sound nearly echoing through the mountains, the call. Without really realizing what he was doing, Kor slid down the hillside, his bare feet sending the small rocks flying with rattles down the incline, no thought to being silent now. The prey knew he was tailing it, damn the reptile's sensitive nose, and the thing with some prey is that they seemed to think themselves predators. If anyone was going to be get killed for the name of Ghauntyrr'Stra Do'afin, Kor was resolved that it wouldn't be this human girl who had so boldly told him things she should not know.

He'd barely reached her side by the stream when the rustle of the brush higher up the hillside caught his peripheral vision. Between the boughs of leaves burdened with midsummer leaves and blossoms, he could catch the movement of something scaled. Even though the sun had yet to rise, the dim moonlight still managed to catch his eyes and those teeth. Little glimpses of white between the deep verdantly green brush was easy to spot, especially now that he was looking for it. Appearances were suddenly everything. If there was any indication that Karuka was an ally, Rothe d'lil Tagnik'zur would take advantage of that.

Slipping into the shadows, drawing them around him like a cloak, Kor moved through them to the other side of Karuka. If he could keep her confused, fool her senses to bring out her fear, she may have a chance. Appearing suddenly on the other side of her, he reached out, letting his hand curl into those cerise curls and drag her from the crouch by the waterside to a stand. He could hear the strain on her hair follicles, the small creaking pops of tearing strands and winced for her. He managed to turn the sympathetic turn of his face into a scowl and began to scream at her, using the harsh tongue of his people. It was perfect, he thought. Rothe would know what he was saying, but this girl would never have to know the terrible things he was growling into her ear.

"Inbau tir dosst talwien! Xunus Usstan telanth dos gumash s'tharl harl? Dos inbal doer ghil whol dosst streea, ele xuat dos jindurn ol saph natha Ilythiiri? Jhal Usstan gotfrer, dos s'ck in'loil del shu, nindel dos ph'rivvil. Dos phuul e'trit. S'tharl pholor dosst dosib t'zarreth ulu thalra Elghinn, ka dos qualla. Usstan zhal tai'luen dos nau ka'lith nindol kre'tan!"

He glanced again to the bushes, where the rustling now was merely the work of the wind. He could feel the eyes upon him, knowing that Rothe had begun to stand still, to wait for the next move. Composing his face into a vicious smirk, not intending on letting the girl ruin his careful moves, he tightened his grip in her hair and tensed his shoulders for what needed to be done. He needed to keep her either quiet, or have her sputter curses. He didn't care what happened after Rothe showed himself, but the first moves in this game must be laid carefully.

This is silly, I can see him from here, and he knows something's wrong. Queen let him know from her unseen perch in the trees. Just tell her to run and face him on your own. You still have shadows, but not for long. Dawn is coming. I know it, and if the two biggest pretadorial jackasses in Alerar weren't staring each other down right now over some girl, the birds would be singing about it.

Panic began to push at him, and with a muttered "Vith...", Kor grabbed Karuka's arm with his free hand and used both holds to toss her bodily into the stream. It bothered him naught that it took little effort to compose his face to a victorious smirk, a small chuckle rolling from his lips as she hit the shallow water with a splash.

Get off your feet! Did I say you could sit down? You have come here for your death, why don't you face it like a Drow? But I forget, you sick piece of shit, that you are human. You are filth. Sit on your fucking ass to meet Death, if you please. I shall spare you no mercy this morning!

[Karuka]

Karuka's brooding almost made her miss the fluting call that broke the silence of pre-dawn, but the second time she heard it, there was no mistaking it -- and no denying that it was likely a predator. The more still she sat and the harder she listened, the more likely she would be to discern the direction of the attack before it happened.

When th' birds are silent an' th' light is shiftin' up, y' know tha' there's somethin' about.

She didn't move, listening to her surroundings. True, right now she was a sitting target, but she'd spent her lifetime glaring down predators, from wicked men to the legendary Cat of the Liviol Sanctum, and she knew better than to run. She knew better than to be afraid. She knew that she had to be prepared, and her fingers closed lightly around her heavy Nihon staff.

She heard a sudden scrabbling from behind her made her tense, and as a hand roughly seized and yanked her hair, dragging her into a semi-standing position, she brought her staff to bear, whirling the crimson wood and aiming for a solid strike at his chest.

"Malchadan, Calhoun!" she snapped, forgetting for a moment the differences between the black-skinned Drow and the pale man that she found so similar. Her anger blinded her to their differences -- anger at his random violence that she'd warned him against when there was a different predator about. Didn't he know any better?

Before she could bring her staff around for a second strike, he muttered a curse in his own tongue and grabbed her, tossing her headlong into the icy water that she'd tasted just minutes before. The cold hit her system like a shock, and as she surfaced, blue eyes flashing fire, vlince clothes clinging to her slender body and wet, wine-red curls hanging down to the center of her back, she saw that despite his smirk, Kor wasn't even looking at her, and his worried eyes darted around the brush.

He were aware o' i', as well.

Standing, Karuka gripped her staff and looked around. She knew the attack was coming...but what and where it was coming from was another matter entirely, and there was so much about Althanas that she didn't yet know.

>>>When the birds are silent and the light is growing, you know that there's something about.<<<

"Damnit, Calhoun!"

>>>He was also aware of it.<<<

[None So Blind]

"What'ss thiss?" came a voice, floating through the pre-dawn light like a dark harbinger to what was hiding in the brush. Kor stiffened, his smirk suddenly gone. There was a rustle, sending more small pebbles clattering down the hillside and the boughs of the brush parted. What came for them was something far darker than the Drow that stood on the banks of the small stream or the name that had been cast at him as a curse.

Rothe was something between a man and a lizard. He was humanoid in shape, but little else. His skin was covered in the wrinkled cracks of a leather hide, tough and thick. It was a greenish cast, though in the early morning light everything seemed to be drowned in grey hues. His fingers ended in sharp claws, his eyes glittering yellow with slitted pupils. His tongue flicked out as he tasted them on the wind, the forked ends wavering. Teeth, nearly as lemon-colored as his eyes, were exposed. They were like light triangles that glowed as they caught what little light there was to be had. His feet scraped along the stone as he walked, and above all, he was naked. A long, thick tail waved slowly behind him, to balance the strangely proportioned body, and as it slid along the ground, more stones were sent scattering to the sides and down to Kor's feet.

"This is none of your business," Kor said, with a venom that made Rothe tilt his head to the side and look at the scene with renewed interest.

"Perhapss..." he conceded, as he came closer still. "But whatever you leave of her, I want." That forked tongue came slithering out, to pass over the strange blunted features of his face, as if he regarded the entire thing as his lips. The movement of his tongue at least distracted Kor for a moment from the engorging that was happening between Rothe's legs. He wondered for a moment what the weremonitor could be thinking, but he didn't have long to contemplate it.

"And I want to watch."

"She's mine. All of her." Kor stated simply, the bile rising in his throat. Managing to keep from being ill was accomplished only through the thought that he at least got what he wanted. His presence had drawn out one of the Tagnik'zur brothers. All he needed to do was get in close enough, and he would have a chance to exploit his rare knowledge. A smile again came to his face when he thought of what he would do this morning, with everything he needed at his disposal.

Ignoring Rothe's angry arguments about his stingy nature, Kor let the shadows melt around him again. He moved like the lightning, taking advantage of what night they had left to move in an instant into the water, his hands reaching for Karuka the moment he reappeared. This time he was kinder, taking her under an arm to pull her against his chest. She was beautiful, her body tightened by the icy water into peaks that were delightful to look at, her hair plastered against her wet skin. He could just make out the goosebumps along her arms.

"It's better if you close your eyes," he whispered, letting his rough voice reach her ears only. Somehow, he knew that taking her with him into the darkness would be sweeter than it had ever been before, and not just with the methods of touch he used to draw her into the spell. Leaning down his head, he pressed his lips to hers. She tasted of spice, of things bold and exotic, but before he had the chance to fully explore that taste, the shadows came, and they were enveloped in darkness.

They reappeared out of the stream, near to the mouth of the cave. They were closer now to Rothe than Kor had expected, but it didn't matter. He moved Karuka into the mouth of a smaller hollow than they'd spent the night in, shielding it's entrance with his body. His smile flashed far whiter than Rothe's had, and holding out his hand to the lizard man, he spoke what could very well be his famous last words.

"If you want her, you'll have to take me down first."

[Karuka]

The exchange by the two bipedal rams in heat made Karuka roll her eyes and sigh. Like Hel she'd be the ewe for either or both of them, and her fingers twirled a rune from her pouch while they bickered back and forth.

The stylized S was very familiar to her. Its name was Sigel, and it was a rune of valor and of victory. For spellcasting purposes, it summoned the force of nature it most resembled -- the spark of Thor's hammer, the bolt of lightning. But for it to work its magic, there needed to be clouds.

Another glance at the two figures on the shore revealed that yes, they were still fighting over a woman that really had no interest in either of them. Or maybe they were fighting over something completely different, and she was just the convenient excuse. Either way, they were both still occupied, and she glanced at the sky. It had been clear the night before, which had her slightly worried, but the breezes chilling her skin through her clothes had brought with them clouds. There weren't many clouds thus far, but they did exist, and that was all she needed of them.

Before she could mutter the prayer that would call forth the lightning, though, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her tightly to a warm, muscular chest, even as his other hand tilted up her chin so that her blue eyes could look up into his orange ones.

"It's better if you close your eyes," he murmured gruffly before pressing his lips against hers without giving her even the slightest chance to refuse. He tasted dark and bittersweet, and this close, closer than she wanted to be, she could smell him -- the scent of wild onions right after a rain storm, and just the barest metallic tang of blood. They flitted in and out of a confining darkness, reappearing at the opening of a small cave, where Kor pushed her in, treating her once more like some sort of object or helpless fawn, rather than the spitfire that had yet to be fully unleashed.

It's better if you close your eyes. 'Twere th' very words Albin said before he kissed me...an' that kiss...th' first 'un...led to places it should nae ha'.

A cold anger rushed through Karuka's slender frame. So far this Kor had reminded her of little other than the two men that she despised more than anyone else in this lifetime. She was looking forward to the fight ending so she could take her leave of him and get on her way to Dheathain. And how dare, how dare! he kiss her like that? Her face contorted in rage as Kor made his grand announcement about being her meat shield.

I dinna need a guardian. Nae against THAT, nae against HIM, nae against ANYTHIN'.

Biting her left thumb hard enough to draw blood, she smeared a few drops onto her rune, muttering a prayer to Thor. She'd felt the sharp pain as teeth sank into flesh, but she'd grown so used to the motion over the span of the past two years that she didn't even recognize that it hurt anymore.

Wrapping up her prayer with the rune's name, the red-head glared up at the sky, and behind Kor, her eyes reflected bright electric sparks for just a moment as the sky rumbled loudly and a small bolt of lightning split the distance between Kor and his quarry neatly, leaving a small scorch mark in the dirt.

All righ'...so either both o' these are equally d'servin' o' a good shock, or I missed.

>>>It's better if you close your eyes. Those were the very words Albin said before he...and that kiss...the first one...led to places it shouldn't have.<<<

>>>I don't need a guardian. Not against THAT, not against HIM, not against ANYTHING<<<

>>>All right. So, either both of these [men] are equally deserving of a good shock, or I missed.<<<

[None So Blind]

Immediately, both men were engrossed in watching the sky. When the morning had started rain and lightning hadn't been something etiher had been expecting, and now suddenly there was peril on open ground. Had he heard something behind him? Kor glanced over his shoulder, where a wet and disgruntled Karuka was looking at him with a look he couldn't quite read, though he was sure he'd worn a scowl like it on many occasions.

"You did this..." he muttered, then bared his teeth. "Are you trying to kill me after the kindness I've shown today?" A scrape of claws on the ground made him turn back to see the lizardman sniffing on the ground near the scorch mark, nervously glancing at the clouds as he did so.

"Sssomething'ss not right. The ground ssmellss like blood. A woman'ss blood." As Rothe plunged his snout into the blackened earth, seeming to sigh lovingly as he inhaled the scent of lightning called by blood magic, Kor turned to Karuka, leaning down so that his tangerine gaze was inches from her own.

"C'nros... Usstan zhaunau ol." He grinned, before sighing. "I had planned to give you away to the shadows to keep safe, but you still insist on expressing your art. So, my dear," his baritone grumbled out, "Step into the fray. I won't stand in your way any longer."

The shadows started to creep from the cave, covering his form, wrapping him in a blackness that suffocated out even the small colors that shone in his skin. Then, as suddenly as the shadows had enveloped him they faded away, leaving nothing but air between Karuka and a face that glared at her with eyes and teeth that weren't as yellow as they were hungry.

Witch... I knew it.

[Karuka]

So far this morning, nothing made sense. Kor alternately attacked and protected her with no sense to either, and now he was sacrificing her to this...creature. This she could understand, this she could deal with. The weremonitor was a predator, desiring flesh in both senses of the word. Determined predators were less dangerous than confused ones at close range; they acted predictably.

Karuka knew how to handle predators. The first rule is "never run." The second is "never show fear." The final one is "make yourself more a threat than is worth hunting." If that wasn't possible, the rule became to at least look like a threat.

She stepped forward slowly, one pace, then another, and watched her opponent's tongue flick out. She heard the grating purr as he savored her scent in the morning air, and watched as he began to charge.

She gripped the end of her staff in both hands, setting herself to swing it and hit him in the jaw as soon as he came within range. She leveled her gaze at him, sun-kissed blue eyes locking with his straw-colored ones.

For a moment, she felt a shock, as though his ferocity was trying to shove her back, trying to frighten her and make her flee. But though she may have been the weakest of all three of them in most ways, there was no way she'd succumb to his will.

As he closed in on her, she pushed back, glaring into his eyes and trying to force her will upon him...trying to make him stop.

Roethe slowed and stopped just a few feet outside of Karuka's striking range. Her gaze was the barrier between her lovely throat and his avaricious teeth, it prevented him from going forward those few feet to take her, claim her, make her his. It was also the leash that held him in place; even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't have torn his eyes from hers, couldn't have reared back and run from the fire that seemed to blaze from her soul and into his own. He stamped and growled, trying to back away, trying to break off contact, but those bright, unblinking eyes wouldn't release him. He was stuck.

Karuka was just as stuck as her target, though. If she moved towards him, the move could be seen as hostile and give him the right motive to charge again. If she moved back, she'd be fleeing. If she blinked, the eye contact would be broken and he'd be free to attack once more. She had to maintain this forceful stare until his intentions changed from attacking to fleeing, or until something happened, and she could feel her wrists starting to shake. Maintaining the sheer force of will needed to keep the monster at bay was very draining, and time was not on her side.

A nervous twitter sounded from Roethe's throat. She wasn't moving, and he couldn't move. Alone, they were at an impasse. Alone, time would have been on his side; he could smell fatigue beginning to waft from her.

But they were hardly alone.

[None So Blind]

The shadows behind Roethe flickered, and suddenly the beasts eyes went wide, the pupils contracting to nothing more than a slit of blackness as it reared it's head. Blood was gushing from his side with a wet rip as a silver knife was pulled through the flesh. At first the lizardman tried to curl around the wound, his scream piteous and frightened, but as a dark arm wrapped around his neck from behind, it turned more feral. Anger reverberated in the sound and his gaze narrowed upon the redheaded girl before him.

"KILL YOU!" he choked out, rearing back to lash out at the woman who had held him still while his enemy snuck up behind him. The arm around his neck disappeared, Kor falling to his feet behind him. His smirk of glory turned to a frown as even his heel coming crashing down at the base of the beast's tail could not distract it from it's mission. It was gathering it's energy so that the first blow could be a killing blow. Kor was determined that if anyone would kill Karuka Tida, it would be him.

When he could feel the lizard move forwards, he used his foothold on the base of Roethe's tail and all his energy to spring upwards. The lizard's jaws were open, moving with the lone purpose of taking off the girl's face. Kor hooked his arm around, gagging the lizard with both fist and forearm as his other hand plunged the knife deep into his throat. They went down with a crash, the lizard rolling over Kor even as he heard a sickening crack through his arm. weight was pushing down on his chest, but he gritted his teeth, shoving the knife deeper, ripping through esophogus until it was buried past the hilt into a mess of blood and flesh.

Even as he grinned at the burbled wheezing of his adversary, his own choking filled his head. Dizziness exploded, bright red spots dancing in front of his vision while he fought for what few paltry gasps he could get, flailing like a beached fish to get free of the awful thing that was crushing him. He was unwilling to use the shadows to free himself. The lizardman had a powerful grip on his arm, ripping through skin, and was still struggling for life. He didn't desire losing an arm, nor letting his enemy accomplish his goal. Pure stubbornness might kill him, but no one was going to say that Kor d'lil Tupora Elghinyrr had gone out without destroying what he pleased.

He was a man who was bound and determined to prove that you could, in fact, take it with you when you went.

[Karuka]

After Kor had tried to sacrifice her to the lizardman, he came back in to kill him. Or try to, anyway. The distraction proved a welcome respite for Karuka, allowing her to blink, look away, and generally start recovering from the intense effort of keeping the monster at bay.

She wasn't out of danger yet, though. Despite Kor fighting the monster, it was still trying to lunge at her, at least until they both wound up fighting on the ground. She could see that it was now the Drow fighting for his life. If she left it alone, they'd both die here. Maybe that would be best. Althanas needed no Kors or lizardmen to plague its surface. Besides, why shouldn't she let Kor die when he'd tried actively to get her killed?

She slipped her hand into her rune pouch, and her fingers closed around Ken. It stayed with her fingers, begging to be used, and she sighed irritably. It looked like she was helping Kor after all.

Rubbing her still bleeding thumb over the face of the rune, she muttered a prayer to the goddess Brigid, summoning a fireball that fit into the palm of her hand. It still bothered her that she was about to do this, but she put that aside for a moment - long enough to act.

The fireball slammed into Roethe's face, into his nostrils and through to his lungs. Unable to breathe, he twitched a little and finally gave up and died. It was a gruesome death, but there were worse ones.

Having taken care of the lizard, she leaned against the side of the cave. If Kor wanted to live, he'd have to save himself. He'd been much too eager to see her die for her to feel compelled to actively save him, so she watched, coldly, and slid her rune back with the rest of the set.

[None So Blind]

When the fire hit, heat burned at the fine hairs on his forearm. Roethe gasped, Kor slipping his arm free. It throbbed with pain, the blood running down to his shoulders, but he could finally turn his serious expression into a smirk. As his face was growing dark, his lips flushing with a purple tint, he called them. The shadows came lurching from the rocky sides of the cliffs, making strange patterns on the ground as they came. The darkness of them was off, standing out in ways that made the mind want to force it all away.

Within the blink of an eye, he'd been suffocating under the creature, the next, he used the shadow under Roethe and the shades he'd called to himself to take him away. He suddenly sat coughing in the small alcove he'd tried to hide Karuka in, gasping for air, holding himself against the stone as his lungs burned with new air. The dizziness was replaced with a small buzzing headache, and when he looked up, at the redheaded runemaiden, she seemed to glow in the morning sunlight. He sat there, staring at her as if she were something for sale that he wasn't quite yet sure he was getting fleeced for buying.

At last, he felt he could stand, stalking past her and to Roeth's body. The anthropomorph's face was blackened and blistered, his corpse stinking from the burns, but it didn't matter. Leaning down, Kor retrieved his knife. He hit his knees in the soft grass, ignoring the sharp poking of rocks on his knees and shins through the denim trousers he wore. He let the blade bite in again, ripping down and across. He wielded the blade with two hands, shoving hard to move through the thicker muscle that gave the kitchen knife some trouble. Finally, with a grunt, his hand slipped down, the knife going in easily at a soft pocket. Blood welled and gushed upwards as he worked, until at last he'd made a tunnel through flesh and between organs that he could shove his hand into. His eyes closed, his face frozen in a mask of concentration. Finally, he jerked his hand back, plunging the knife with his other inside to help rip through tubing until he could pull free his prize.

A fair-sized organ, purple and still quivering in half life, sat in his hand. He tossed it to the ground and again plunged his hands in again, this time bending his arm, so he could feel up under the ribs. When he removed Roethe's heart, it was still beating, but only gently. Kor squeezed it, grinning as blood spewed from the torn arteries onto the body before him, pooling in between veins on the wing.

He turned, holding out the heart to Karuka. The smile of an amused beast was plastered on his face, his grin mocking and full of tormenting fun. He brought the heart to his lips, taking a deep bite, ripping a strip of flesh from it. As he chewed thoughtfully, his glittering gaze never left her face.

"Ph'dos nug'ri?"

"Are you hungry?"

[Karuka]

He thought he was mocking her. He was offering her a warrior's cut of the prize, and he thought he was mocking her. She could see it in the malevolent grin, in the glint of his eyes. He still thought she was a weak little girl, after all that had happened that morning.

Well, he was wrong. If he was going to acknowledge her status as a warrior, she wasn't about to give him reason to doubt it. She wasn't squeamish, Hel, blood, guts and gore were a normal part of a Celtic child's life. People died. And warriors ate the hearts of their vanquished enemies.

As he offered the heart to her, Karuka picked it up, holding the organ firmly in her hand, feeling its weight and shape as well as the blood that was rapidly cooling on the still-warm muscle. Lifting it to her own lips, she bit it, tearing off a sizable chunk before dropping it back into Kor's outstretched hand.

It felt wonderful to eat, as the iron-rich protein hit a body that had survived mostly on bread and vegetation. It tasted horrible. It was tough and rancid, bitter and almost sour, tangy and slimy and altogether not good to eat, which was rare. Whenever she had a chance to eat a rabbit or a frog, the heart and liver were the first bits she ate, and they tasted delicious.

Prob'ly jus' th' ol' lizard, then.

She didn't let it show that the taste was awful, finishing off her portion before returning to the stream to wash her hands and face.

She had a decision to make. She could either leave now, denying Kor the reading he'd demanded the previous night, or remain, risk the reading and whatever bout of violence the dark elf saw fit to induce next.

Then again, the light was growing rapidly, he'd had the worst of the fight with the lizard, and she could still fight back. She decided to ask for guidance, and withdrew a rune from her pouch.

Is. It meant to stay.

Karuka could have cursed. She'd wanted to go. But she'd follow her directions, for a while longer, at least. If she came up with some reason to leave that trumped divine direction, she'd leave in a heartbeat.

Until then, she wrung out her still-soaked hair and dumped tepid water from her boots. It was starting to look like a long day.

[None So Blind]

Kor's eyes first widened in surprise but easily slid back down to the half open slits that watched her like the predator had. He took back the heart and ate more of it, chewing the flesh thoughtfully as she moved to the water to wash the blood from her hands. He took the time to examine his arm. Besides the singed hairs along the skin, which were paltry complaints if anything, his forearm was lacerated with deep bites, the bones broken.

He would need a splint, and as he took another bite from Roethe's heart, he looked upon the carcass. He was having fancies of tearing out the forearm bone of his conquest to keep his own straight, but between cleaning it and getting it to lay against his skin just right, it was more trouble than it was worth. Around the valley, even climbing upwards in soil filled nooks of the rocky mountains, trees were abundant in Alerar.

"Do you have anything that can cut a branch?" he asked Karuka. His smirk turned sour as he joined her at the waterside. "Or do your little rocks do that too?"

[Karuka]

"Sure, I've somethin' that'd cut jus' abou' anythin'," the red-head replied sarcastically. He'd been toying with her since the previous night, and she wasn't so forgiving as she looked. "Yer attitude."

She glanced up at his arm as she washed the last of the blood from her hands. She hadn't thought it to be broken after all, when she'd seen him using it to help carve out Roethe's liver and heart, but it was, and the work had likely worsened it. Warriors who didn't fix broken bones were all too often left unable to use the limb that had broken, and constantly in pain from an inept healing.

Of slightly greater immediate concern were the teethmarks that had dug into his skin. Karuka knew too many warriors that had died after being bitten by even such small things as rabbits, and the flames that had taken the lizard's life wouldn't have cauterized or cleansed them. They'd been in the lizard's mouth at the time, after all. The burns weren't bad, and would heal on their own.

Still, she could feign absolute ignorance of basic Celtic first aid and let him suffer, which she felt was justified. If she'd been the one with the broken arm, he probably would have laughed at her. Or she could do the "right thing" and clean up his injuries then set and splint his arm. She decided on the latter course of action. After all, he had come to save her, in the end. It had been his choice to do the right thing that had led to his injuries in the first place.

"Siddown, Kor," she muttered, glancing once around the woods that contained them both before dipping a rag into the icy water of the stream. "Tha' 'tis...if y' want t' live. I'd be as much fer y dyin' o' some infection as y' were fer me gettin' killed by th' lizard beast."

She cleaned the wounds, then fashioned a splint out of a stick using a sharp rock. A quick yank set the bone back as well as she could manage, and it didn't take too long to wrap the arm.

After that, she picked up her belongings and splashed across the creek, leaving the surly Drow to himself. Runes or not, she had a definite destination, and was sure she was more likely to get there in one piece without his mood swings.

She sure hoped Dheathain would prove less hostile than Alerar had.

Spoils request: None So Blind gets the lizard liver.

[Bloodrose]

Light commentary was requested, so I'll keep my comments in each section brief.

STORY ~ 21

Continuity (6) ~ I had some inklings on where this story would have fit within the character's broader storylines, but not enough to really know what some of the flashbacks and reminiscing was about without reading some backstory. In particular, Rothe seemed to come into this thread out of nowhere without much introduction, and a little more emphasis on how he related to Kor's character would have boosted the score here.

Setting (7) ~ I had a consistently clear image of where this story was taking place.

Pacing (8) ~ The thread kept me reading the whole way through, and more than that, it progressively built itself to the point where I was eagerly anticipating each successive post.

CHARACTER ~ 24

Dialogue (8) ~ There was some good use of different languages and accents here. It really tied particular dialogue to each character, and worked well throughout the thread.

Action (8) ~ The action here was well done. Rather than just fall into the easy trap of both character's ganging up and beating the tar out of Rothe, there was instead some excellent utilization of each character's particular strengths to create key advantages in the short battle.

Persona (8) ~ Both characters came off as unqiue and believable from the reader's point of view. Kor's use of intimidation and his predatory nature really shone, as did Karuka's stalwart defiance and refusal to back down in the face of a threatening stranger.

WRITING STYLE ~ 30

Mechanics (9) ~ You both know what you're doing.

Technique (7) ~ I don't think I'll ever get tired of the way Karuka utilizes her runes throughout a thread.

Clarity (7) ~ Sometimes I got a little sidetracked by the segments alluding to past events or dealing with other individuals who have influenced each character's persona.

* Wild Card (7) ~ An enjoyable read overall. Excellent work.

TOTAL: 75

Karuaka Tida earns 3000 EXP and 400 GP

None So Blind earns 2500 EXP, 350 GP, and 1 Lizard Liver

[Zook Murnig]

EXP/GP ADDED!

NONE SO BLIND LEVELS UP!

KARUKA TIDA LEVELS UP!